Warning: this story contains violent content. There will be death, violence and mentions of sex (though not in great detail). If any of that bothers you, do not continue.

Hal Jones had a good life. One might argue that he had a great life. He was working in middle management, which on the isle was a pretty cushy job. Thursdays were his favorite day because that was the day the liquor shipment came in.

It was just past closing time and Hal was alone in the warehouse. He stood from his desk and stretched, the lower half of his stomach threatening to pop out of his slacks. He ran a hand through his thinning dirty blonde hair before grabbing his jacket and heading for the warehouse floor.

Hal Jones had been stealing from his work for a while now.

It had started small with a bottle to take home to his wife, then a couple of bottles. Now he found himself loading a whole case onto a dolly to drag home with him.

"Thinks she knows everything, Hmmmm? She ain't caught old Hal yet." Hal chuckled to himself as he dragged the case to the doors. He remembered the Isle before the young princess had taken over. He remembered the structureless hellscape and while Hal had benefited from her coming over, he still resented that his boss was some teenaged brat from Auradon, a Royal no less.

"Marianne will have made Loaf." He grinned. He couldn't call it meatloaf, as he wasn't entirely sure what it consisted of, however he remained unbothered. He would go home, have dinner, enjoy a bottle of his hard earned bounty while playing with his son and tonight, hopefully, he would be able to get his wife into bed. He would worry about distribution tomorrow.

It was a simple system really. He stole the bottles from work, then sold them to his 'friends' and neighbors at a discount. It was one hundred percent profit. Of course the bloody Isle didn't have cars, so he had to drag the dolly all they way home but it was a small price to pay.

Hal was so caught up in congratulating himself on being clever, more clever than even Echo herself that he didn't notice the figure descending on him until it was too late

Hal woke with a gasp, his eyes frantically searching the dim room. His wrists were bound to the sturdy wooden chair he sat in and his head felt like it might split open.

"About time you woke up." Hal's blood ran cold at the sound of her voice. It might as well have been the voice of the grim reaper himself.

"I-Echo-I."

"I didn't give you permission to speak." The voice cut him off. A dark figure stepped forward, closer into the light and Hal almost laughed. It seemed absurd, he was a grown man, and she was just a kid.

"I heard you've been stealing from me, Hal." She accused, staring down at the terrified man. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to figure out what to say to get out of this.

"I-I would never."

"That's what I said. I said why would a man like Hal Jones steal from me? He has so much to lose. And so little to gain." Echo half up a hand and tugged on the wrist of her glove, smoothing the black material over her hand. "After all, why would a man with a wife and child risk everything for a little money? Your wife says Hello, by the way- or was it Help?" Echo looked thoughtful as the color drained from Hal's face.

"No!" he exclaimed, wriggling desperately against his binds.

"I hope the money was worth it Hal, their screams were so heartbreaking. Especially as your little boy, Caleb, is it? He was screaming for his dad. If only he knew that his dad had sold him out for a few bucks." She shook her head, as if sad.

"You're a monster." Hal snapped.

Echo laughed, stepping closer and grabbing the man's shin, forcing him to look at her.

"I gave you eerything. I gave you a job, a way of living above what you would ever dream of. You threw it away! I'm not the monster, Hal, you are. You decided their safety had a price tag. Everything that happened to your wife and son is on you and your greed." She dropped his chin and stepped back.

The man's body shook as he sobbed, mourning the loss of his son, of Caleb and of his beautiful wife Marianne, far too young and beautiful to be married to him for any reason other than money.

"Now, Hook." Echo called out. Hal didn't have a chance to react as a hand gripped his hair, yanking his head back violently. The sharp point of the notorious hook sliding across his neck, spraying blood across the room, droplets decorating Echo's white shirt. The hook cut through the flesh like butter. Moments later the light left Hal Jones eyes and his struggles ceased.

"He got gore on my hook." Harry complained, wiping it clean on the dead man's shirt.

'You slit his neck, I'd have been surprised if you didn't have gore on your hook." Echo dismissed the complaint, taking a handkerchief from her back pocket to clean up the blood, stripping off her shirt, leaving her in a black tank top, she dropped the shirt at the dead man's feet. When Harry was happy with the cleanliness of his beloved hook he slid it back into the loop on his belt, hurrying after Echo towards the door.

"So what was all that about his wife and kid? I didn't kill them."

"You know I have more than just you at my beck and call, Hook."

"Yes, but I'm your favorite."

"You assume. His wife and son are fine."

"But you said-"

"I lied." Echo rolled her eyes.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Echo stopped and turned back to him. "He did put their lives in danger. Not just from me, but from anyone who might decide to come for the stolen product. Anyway, now they are without a bread winner, so they might as well be dead." Echo shrugged and continued walking. Harry looked back at the shack that held Hal's body, at the clean up lackies who were preparing to set the shack on fire to get rid of the body and everything else left behind. As the first flame began to lick at the old wood of the shack, he turned on his heel and hurried to catch up with Echo.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like it, leave me a review or like or whatever!